


light switches

by gingersprite



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Bobby Nash Being a Dad, Canon Disabled Character, Dissociation, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Firefam Feels, Future Fic, Gen, Health Scares, M/M, Panic Attacks, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Team as Family, Trans Buck, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersprite/pseuds/gingersprite
Summary: Buck and Eddie are having a baby.It's not without its ups and downs.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 61
Kudos: 491
Collections: Genuary 2021





	1. Buck and Christopher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is perhaps... no, this is _definitely_ different from what I usually write, but I saw [this](https://fyeahhipsterdoctor.tumblr.com/post/189610697134/got-a-potentially-angsty-buddie-prompt-for-anyone) tumblr prompt and it just took hold in my brain. I'm not interested in going there with ABO or ass-babies, so in this Buck is just a regular ol' trans guy.
> 
> Full transparency, I am not trans, nor do I have CP, so all of this is coming from internet research; I'll put the links in the end notes for anyone who's interested. I think that most kids, no matter how cheerful or secure they are, can become anxious about having a younger sibling, and it got me thinking about how Christopher might react in such a situation; obviously his disability comes up, but there's more to it than that, and hopefully I've demonstrated that.
> 
> Additional warnings for: brief but frank discussion about a trans man becoming pregnant, depiction of harm to a premature baby, and a disabled character speaking badly about themselves (it gets shut down fast though, so don't worry)

Something’s up with Christopher. He’s been quiet and moody, veering between clingy and standoffish at the drop of a hat. As much as Buck wants to brush it off, he knows his son, and there’s only been one thing that coincides with this behavior.

He’s started showing.

It’s barely noticeable; it’s still early enough, and Buck’s taller than most other trans men he’s met, so that’s distracted some from his thickening waist. Of course, their family noticed immediately, having been keeping an eye out for it ever since Buck and Eddie announced the pregnancy. They’ve all been straddling that fine line between protective and smothering, especially Bobby; but he’s been consciously working at it, even though every parental bone in his body must be freaked at the thought of Buck going into a burning building. 

And Buck’s grateful for that, really, knowing that his family is there for him and the baby. They’ve talked a lot about what he can and can’t do, and have made plans for how the next several months are going to go. He’s been cleared to work through the first trimester, so long as he isn’t taking unnecessary risks, and soon he’ll switch over to EMT work and general non-fire related calls. Unlike last time, the prospect of light duty doesn’t seem like a punishment: it helps that he’s not trying to throw himself back into the thick of things before fully recovering from a major injury, and that he’s got someone else on board to take care of.

While most of the major moments in their relationship- their first kiss, dating, co-parenting Christopher, moving in together, getting married- were admittedly impulsive, gut-instinct decisions, this one was actually thought out. Granted, it might not have started out that way: meeting Maddie and Chimney’s baby girl, getting to hold her and coo over her still-smooshy features and soft newborn skin, imagining what it would be like if they didn’t have to give her back. But the real kicker had been seeing Christopher with his new cousin while they babysat; Buck watched him playing with her and speaking in that endlessly patient way of his, even though Joy was far too little to understand him, and suddenly Buck found himself giving voice to that simmering thought, asking Eddie, “what if we had one?”

It wasn’t as simple as that, obviously, which was probably for the best as it forced them to actually talk through the logistics of it all. There weren’t a lot of trans firefighters, and there weren’t many pregnant firefighters, so being both those things meant the 118 would be setting several department precedents and generally making things up as they went along, something Buck luckily excelled at. He’d had to stop taking testosterone, which sucked, but getting to leave the condoms in the dresser drawer was admittedly pretty great, as was the actual baby-making process. The doctor he saw warned him that it could take a while to conceive, and that he’d likely have to go through a few menstrual cycles before his body was ready.

But one thing Buck had always been great at was defying expectations, and barely two months had passed before he was presenting Eddie with a positive pregnancy test, grinning like that little stick was the key to the city.

Before any of that had happened, though, they’d sat Christopher down and talked it out with him. At ten years old, Chris knew the basics of how babies were made, and that Buck was built a little differently than he was- though Chris preferred to use words like ‘unique’ or ‘exceptional’ to describe his adoptive father, something that never failed to tug at Buck’s heart- so he was less surprised by the possibility of them having a baby than he was at becoming a big brother. He’d had somewhere close to a million questions (“what’re you gonna name it?” “where’ll it sleep?” “will it be as small as Joy?”) but once they’d done their best to answer them, Chris seemed excited by the prospect. Buck never imagined he’d be so pleased to get an elementary schooler’s go-ahead to procreate, but somehow that’s exactly how he felt. Overall, things had been going pretty smooth.

Up until now.

Eddie’s working a later shift, so it’s Buck’s turn to pick Christopher up from school. He’d been hoping, perhaps in vain, that whatever’d put Chris in a mood would have been resolved by the end of the week, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. He shrugs out of Buck’s hug hello and barely meets his gaze, deflecting all of his attempts to talk about their days. The entire drive home is tense as hell, and the moment they pull into the driveway Chris is out of the car and shouldering past him to get inside.

Frustration wells in Buck’s chest as he watches Christopher move about putting his school things away and settling in to do his homework, pointedly ignoring him at every turn. Chris has always been a fairly headstrong kid, and his desire for independence had only increased with age; then there’s also the petulance that comes with growing up. Athena had warned that he might struggle with feelings of jealousy once the baby came and took up all of their time, but Buck’s only at twelve weeks now, and as excited as he is he’s not going to suddenly put Chris on the backburner.

Buck moves about the kitchen getting snacks for the two of them, puzzling over just how he’s going to break the ice between them since it’s obvious that Christopher has no intention of thawing on his own terms. He feels Chris’ eyes following him around the place, though every time Buck tries to catch his gaze he quickly looks away. It’s not until he’s standing next to him, setting down two cups of juice and a bowl of fruit salad for them to share, that he realizes all of Chris’ glances have been laser focused on his newly changed abdomen.

Unconsciously, Buck drops a hand to his belly, something he’s started doing now that he’s showing, and Christopher actually, honest-to-god _flinches_. He makes up his mind then that nope, this isn’t going to go on a moment longer.

“Hey bud,” Buck says, pulling his chair next to Chris’ and settling down so their knees are touching. “I think we need to talk about what’s been on your mind lately.”

“I’ve got homework,” Chris grumbles. He’s locked in on his math worksheet, glaring at the numbers like they’ve personally offended him. Buck places a hand over his and gently frees the pencil from his stranglehold, then pushes the worksheet so it’s out of reach.

“And I appreciate your new devotion to your schoolwork, but it’ll still be there waiting for you once we’ve finished,” his voice has made the change over to ‘Dad-Buck mode’, as Eddie teasingly calls it, so Christopher knows he’s serious. “Now, what’s going on?”

“Not sure what you mean,” Chris says, still refusing to look at him. Buck has to bite his lip to keep from telling Chris to look at him, something that Buck knows becomes difficult when he gets stressed, but he needs to know that Chris is listening. He gives the little hand in his a squeeze, and after a moment he gets a squeeze back, though it’s probably the most begrudging hand squeeze in the history of the world.

“Clearly something’s been on your mind, and whatever it is it’s upsetting you. I wanna help, but I can’t do anything unless you talk to me,” Buck takes a breath, seeing how Christopher’s lip has started to wobble, but he doesn’t let himself back down. “I miss seeing my smiley-guy.”

“I can’t run or play sports like Harry and Denny and Josie,” Christopher finally whispers.

“Oh… kay?” Buck says, thoroughly confused. The other boys have always been great about including him in their games, and even though Josie had been a little shy towards Chris when Hen and Karen first adopted her, she opened up quickly and learned to let Chris self-advocate rather than hovering over him. “Did you want to play sports? Cause if you do, you know we’ll find a team for you to play on.”

“… not really,” he admits after a stretch.

“So what’s that got to do with why you’ve been upset all week?”

“Tía Maddie and Uncle Chim were talking about putting Joy in dance classes once she’s older, or softball, or karate, or maybe even all three,” Chris’ breath hitches. “She’s gonna get to do all this stuff, and I can’t do any of it.”

“Hey hey _hey!_ ” Buck exclaims, and pulls the little boy into a hug; this time Chris actually returns it, melting into his side. He tucks his head up against Buck’s shoulder, and Buck presses a fierce kiss onto his mop of curls. Chris has always seemed to take his disability in stride, working hard at anything he sets his mind to. Sometimes he complains- of course he does, he’s a kid- but it’s usually about things like places not being accessible, or strangers making assumptions and trying to do stuff for him. Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t worry about Christopher, but it’s the same sort of worry he feels for Joy and Harry and Denny and Josie, and even May despite her being technically an adult, because he _loves_ them.

“Haven’t Dad and I always told you that you can do anything you set your mind to?” Buck waits until Chris gives a little nod against his neck before continuing. “If you want to do something, all you have to do is tell us and we’ll find a way for you to do it. Remember surfing lessons? You had so much fun, and it’s been so good for your legs. You just have to tell us what’s up.”

“ _No,_ you don’t _get_ it!” Christopher cries, squirming out of Buck’s arms. His face is the picture of pure misery, red cheeked from holding back tears. “Other kids don’t _need_ their dads to help them do stuff, they just _do_ it! And, and once the new baby is here, y-you’ll see how much b-better-”

“Christopher Diaz, do not finish that sentence,” Buck snaps. He’ll feel bad about that later, but right now he refuses to let his son belittle himself like this. “There’s no one better than you, because you are amazing and spectacular, and wonderful, and _exceptional_ just as you are!”

Tears finally start pouring down Chris’ cheeks, making himself hiccup from the force of it. 

“But this’s gonna be _your_ baby, yours and Dad’s, and it probably won’t be like me, so you’ll get to do the stuff with it that I can’t do,” he sobs.

“Oh, Chris,” Buck sighs, cupping the little boy’s face in his hands and thumbing away his tears. “Hey now, listen. Yeah, this new baby is exciting, and I’m looking forward to it; but you will always be my first baby. Doesn’t matter that you weren’t a baby when I met you, or that we don’t share DNA: you are my son. Hen and Karen aren’t related to Denny or Josie, but they’re their moms in every way that matters. And Pops would do anything for May and Harry, you know that.

“And as far as being like you goes, I’ll be thrilled if this baby is anything like you: smart, caring, thoughtful, imaginative, funny- feel free to stop me whenever, cause I can keep going all day- friendly, cheerful, positive, resourceful-”

“Alright, I get your point!” Chris groans. He’s clearly still upset, but at least if he’s annoyed with Buck’s dad-jokes he isn’t crying. “I meant the CP.”

“Yeah, I know you did, but I’ve elected to ignore it,” Buck says in his best Nick Fury impression, which is _terrible_ and never fails to make Chris giggle every time they watch Avengers movies together. He isn’t quite up for laughing now, but it still brings a smile to his face, tiny and watery though it may be. Buck lets him go just long enough to grab him some tissues to clean his face with, then goes back to petting his curls. “I've loved you since before I was even your dad, do you really think another baby could change that?”

Christopher gives a noncommittal shrug, the sort that kids do when they’ve realized something isn’t the catastrophe they’d thought, but are still having a hard time letting go of those feelings.

“Did Dad ever tell you about the time I had a seizure, when I was a baby?” Chris asks hesitantly. 

Buck nods; he’d cried the first time Eddie had told him about what it was like, seeing this tiny baby in the NICU, hooked up to wires and tubes like a little astronaut. The horror he’d felt seeing those frail little limbs jerk and thrash about spastically, the days and nights spent praying to a god he wasn’t sure he fully believed in to just stop _hurting_ his baby son. 

Christopher had seized two more times within his first week of life, before the doctors had managed to get the brain bleeds under control; by then it was impossible to say whether the seizures had caused the cerebral palsy, or if the CP caused the seizures. Buck and Eddie hadn’t even been dating yet when he’d shared that, and later Buck had needed to hug Chris extra tight to chase away images of the joyful little boy he’d come to love so dearly fighting for his life.

“I imagine that must’ve been really scary for him, and for your mom,” Buck says gently.

Chris shrugs like none of it matters, even though he’s the one who brought it up. “I guess. I don’t remember any of it.”

Buck senses a ‘but’ coming, and sure enough…

“But… your job is dangerous. Like, really, really dangerous,” Christopher’s voice is so, so small, and god if that doesn’t just rip Buck’s heart in two. “And, maybe I’m kinda scared about something like that happening. To you, or the baby.”

“Yeah, it can be dangerous,” he admits. “But I’m real good at my job, and I’ve got Dad and your aunties and uncles and Pops all looking out for me. If anything were to happen on a call- and it won’t! – I’d have the best crew in the world there to take care of me. And in a couple months I’m not gonna be doing anything dangerous, just medical stuff and cats stuck in trees.”

“You’ve never _actually_ had to rescue a cat from a tree, Dad,” Christopher corrects, and he’s even feeling up to rolling his eyes at his ridiculous dad, so clearly he’s starting to feel better.

“Have you talked with Doctor Kay about any of this?” Buck prods; he doesn’t want Chris to feel pressured about talking with his therapist, but he knows this might be too big for him and Eddie to handle alone. “How long have you been feeling this way?”

“No, an’ not long,” Christopher mumbles. He wipes at his nose with an already-snotty tissue and Buck hands him another, taking this moment to let Chris collect his thoughts. After noisily blowing his nose, Chris admits, “Just since last week. When you made us that potato pasta thing for dinner.”

He means the sweet potato gnocchi with sage and chestnuts Buck cooked Sunday night; so yeah, about a week. Buck's choice of dish was one he’d whined and begged Athena to teach him, before he finally pulled the pregnancy-cravings card. That was actually how he broke the news to her, just the two of them in the kitchen, cleaning up dishes after a family dinner at her and Bobby’s house. He’d already told everyone else at the station, but work had been crazy for Athena and this was the first chance they’d gotten to talk in days. Athena nearly dropped the sudsy glass she was washing, the only time Buck had ever seen her do anything clumsy. After composing herself, she’d inspected him with suspiciously damp eyes before pulling him into a fierce hug. When she finally let go, her face was positively glowing.

“I am _so_ happy for you, Buckaroo,” she breathed, stroking his cheek. Then she immediately turned and strode back into the dining room to scold the rest of the team for letting her be the last to know. Later, they’d gotten together and prepped the more time-consuming steps of the meal so he could make it for his boys.

Obviously something happened that night to upset Chris, to make him go from excited about his coming sibling to this, but Buck can’t for the life of him imagine what. All of his memories of that night are great: they’d been laughing about the recent screwball call they got, chatting with Christopher about all the latest fifth-grade drama. Buck had been standing at the stove watching the pasta, and Eddie had come up and hugged him from behind, hands cupping the recently developed baby bump. 

“You’re showing,” Eddie had murmured, rubbing his thumb over the swell.

“Am I?” Buck feigned. “Thought I just had a big lunch.”

“Nope!” his husband said cheerfully. “That’s definitely a human baby. You can trust me, I’m a paramedic.”

“Suppose you’d know, seeing as you put it there. Which means you’ll only have yourself to blame when I make you run out for pickles and ice cream at two in the morning,” Buck mock-grumbled; Eddie was far too pleased to pretend otherwise.

“Takes two to tango, babe,” he teased. “We both had a hand in making that baby, so I’ll only accept my allotted fifty percent of the blame. Actually, seeing as you keep reminding me that you’re mostly in charge of all this, shouldn’t I only get a moderate thirty-five percent blame?”

“You can’t be mean to me, I’m pregnant!” Buck whined. “That’s, like, actually illegal!”

Had Christopher been more withdrawn after that? Neither of them noticed at the time, or they would have said something; but now Buck wonders if Chris’ shoulders hadn’t seemed tense, his smiles brittle and forced. 

“Y’know, I don’t have any younger siblings, so I guess I didn’t think about how weird it must be for you,” Buck comments; he goes for a light and airy approach, even though he’s thinking through every word carefully before he says it. “Hearing about the baby even though they haven’t been born yet, seeing me look different. My belly’s gonna keep getting bigger, and I’ll be tired a lot, because making a whole new person takes a lot out of someone; and I’ll probably get sad or angry a lot, even over dumb little things. Remember what your tía was like before Joy was born?”

Maddie had been the picture-perfect expectant mother, right up until the eighth month; his five-foot-two sister could be quite terrifying when she wanted to be, and somehow the belly had made her _more_ intimidating, not less. 

Christopher’s nose screws up at the memory. “So, you’re gonna look like Tía?”

“Not exactly,” Buck chuckles, figuring that Chris must be picturing some sort of odd Buck-and-Maddie hybrid. “I’ll still look like me, just… rounder? The point is, even though our family is changing some, the most important things are staying exactly the same: you’re my kid, and Dad and I love you just as you are. You’re going to be an _amazing_ big brother, this kid is going to be so lucky to have you. And if you start feeling overwhelmed, or scared, then you need to talk to us and I promise you, we’ll work it out.”

Christopher thinks it over, then gives a solemn nod. His cheeks are still ruddy from crying and he’s still letting out the occasional sniffle, but Buck’s words seem to have gotten through. They’ll talk about this more with Eddie once he gets home; for now, they’re both seriously in need of cuddles. Chris squirms as close to his dad as possible and wraps his arms around him tight as he can, a hug that Buck is all too happy to return. He’s wedged his head up against Buck’s armpit, so Buck has to crane his neck down awkwardly to kiss the top of Chris’ head, but it’s totally worth it.

Slowly, like he’s trying to be sneaky, Christopher lets a hand drift over to press low against Buck’s belly. Buck grins; he really does have the two best kids on the planet, and _no,_ he’s not biased about that at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering, it isn't actually unusual for a pregnant firefighter to continue working business-as-usual during the first trimester; you can read more about that [here](http://www.lexipol.com/resources/blog/do-fire-departments-have-to-provide-light-duty-for-pregnant-firefighters/) and [here](https://www.firerescue1.com/fire-department-management/articles/how-to-deal-with-the-pregnant-firefighter-13A7wHHxFmsTy2Lq/) if you're curious. All the information I found was about cis women firefighters, but the same rules should apply for a trans man.
> 
> [Here's](https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/cerebral-palsy/symptoms-causes/syc-20353999) a brief introduction to cerebral palsy, and some [information](https://helloclue.com/articles/cycle-a-z/how-testosterone-therapy-affects-fertility) about fertility/pregnancy in AFAB people.
> 
> And the [recipe](https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/sweet-potato-gnocchi-with-fried-sage-and-shaved-chestnuts-355415) Buck and Athena made, because it sounds delicious!


	2. Athena and Eddie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know when I published this, I said this would be a one-shot... I have no excuse for this, except to say that as much as I'm enjoying Lonestar, it's making me miss the 118 even more!
> 
> This chapter is a bit heavier than the previous one, as it discusses some serious health concerns and possible pregnancy complications. It's also told from Eddie's point of view, and- as you'll see- he isn't in the best headspace for most of it. So please keep that in mind, and remember that there's plenty of fluff to follow the sad!

Eddie startles awake, his heart hammering in his chest. The details of his nightmare are already fading, but the feelings are still just as vivid. He glances to the bedside table where the red numbers of the digital clock reads out 4:17 AM, which means he’s only got two more hours left to sleep; not that he feels like he can get back to sleep anyways. The numbers cut angrily through the darkened room, leaving greenish brands on the inside of his eyelids; he lets out a frustrated huff and tries to scrub them away, which only causes a burst of fireworks.

Beside him, Buck moans and shifts, alerted by Eddie’s restless movements. Usually he sleeps like the dead, but now that he’s reached twenty-five weeks and can’t seem to get comfortable no matter how he lays, it’s been difficult to get any rest. They’d gotten lucky the first few months: despite the constant horror stories about nausea and exhaustion that everyone loved to warn them about, Buck had been more or less business as usual. He was still able to work and be a husband and father, with only the rare hiccup; but since Christopher started being more open about his anxieties, their family has been stronger than ever.

The spell has vanished now that they’ve reached the second trimester. 

“Eds? Whu times’it?” Buck says, his words thick with exhaustion. The bags under his half-open eyes look like bruises, further evidence of how worn out he’s been lately.

Instantly, Eddie is struck by a pang of guilt; Buck’s already going through enough without his clumsy husband making things worse.

“S’alright babe, just go back to sleep,” Eddie murmurs, sweeping a hand along Buck’s aching back; he keeps it up until Buck’s eyes droop close, and waits until his breathing evens out before carefully extricating himself from the blankets. He slips out of their room as quietly as possible, feeling his path down the hallway in lieu of turning on any lights.

Once he’s safely in the living room, Eddie flicks on a small lamp and sits down heavily on the couch. Even the soft, warm light of the lamp feels too harsh, but he can’t bring himself to turn it off and wallow in the dark like some sort of freak. Eddie buries his face in his hands, fingers curled so angrily he feels nails prick his scalp.

He’s got a wonderful husband and a kid he adores, with another on the way; he loves his job, and the crew that’s become family. He has a greater sense of purpose and stability than he’s felt in probably his entire adult life. 

And it’s all he can do to keep from screaming, because the universe just can’t seem to give him a damn break.

The nausea and fatigue Buck had been lucky enough to avoid early on have gotten much worse, though they’re nothing compared to the cramps. Leg cramps are apparently common at this stage, but they’ve been hitting him hard, especially in his bad leg. Buck’s been trying to power through it but it’s obviously causing him a lot of pain; yesterday, when Chris bumped into him while they were playing, Buck damn near crumpled from the pain. Luckily Eddie was able to catch him and help him sit down, but before Buck had been able to explain the source of his pain, Eddie’s panicked brain had become convinced that he was miscarrying. 

The doctor had been quick to put those fears to rest, only to drop another bombshell. Buck is now considered high-risk for pregnancy complications. The severity of the leg cramps combined with his history of blood clots means he’s at risk for developing deep vein thrombosis, maybe even another pulmonary embolism. Standard treatment is to put him back on the blood thinners, which they’ve now done, but now they’ll have to worry about increased blood loss during birth. Their OB had explained it all thoroughly, running through the list of symptoms to keep a look out for and suggesting preventative measures they could take. Buck had been unusually calm the entire appointment, nodding thoughtfully and asking questions, while Eddie suddenly found his head filled with white noise.

Throw another clot, or postpartum hemorrhage: either way, they’re screwed.

Since receiving that awful news, Eddie has been desperately trying to keep a lid on his feelings. He wants to scream into a pillow, punch a wall, anything that’ll release some of the terror knotting up his insides. Rationally he _knows_ it’s not healthy- the voice in his head that sounds annoyingly like his therapist keeps reminding him of that- but what else is he supposed to do? Less than twenty-four hours ago, everything was fine; now they could lose their baby. He could lose Buck.

Of course, that’s the absolute worst case scenario, as the OB reminded them repeatedly. She’d stressed that this was a manageable condition, and that so long as they monitored it, both Buck and the baby would be alright. That doesn’t do much to put Eddie at ease, though, not when thinking of worst case scenarios is what he’s been trained for. And now, all he can think of is the traumatic circumstances around Christopher’s birth; he couldn’t help Shannon or Chris then, and now he’s going to fail Buck and the baby too. 

Eddie digs the heels of his palms deeper into his eyes, hoping that shifting the pressure elsewhere will help. It doesn’t, just brings about a new surge of eye fireworks. He spends almost an hour like that, head in his hands, his mind running through a loop of everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time he manages to pull himself together enough to even think about heading back to bed, he realizes there’s absolutely no chance of getting back to sleep before the alarm goes off; so he might as well get ready for work.

He sneaks out of the house like a thief in the night, without kissing Buck and Chris goodbye, and resigns himself to a day of trying to pretend he isn’t falling apart.

Eddie, more or less, spends the morning shift in a daze. He manages to pull himself together for calls, but when it comes to anything else- pleasantries and small talk, his teammates’ hesitant probing- he’s a complete zombie. It’s about midafternoon when they get back from their most recent call, and Eddie is stunned to see Buck waiting for them. 

The fog lifts somewhat, quickly replaced with dawning horror. Something must be wrong, he thinks. Buck isn’t supposed to be here, he should be resting, not working; so if he’s here, then something must be seriously wrong.

The moment the truck stops, Eddie climbs down and makes a beeline for Buck, his heart in his throat. His first instinct is to check Buck over, but Eddie tamps that down. Besides, Buck seems fine, the dark undereye circles he’d sported yesterday seemingly vanished with extra rest; he’s even got some of that ‘pregnancy glow’ Eddie’s abuela had been cooing about the other day. 

None of that makes Eddie feel any better; his hands start clenching at his sides, nervous energy coursing through him like a live wire. If any of his panic shows through, Buck seems completely unaware of it as he catches Eddie’s hands and reels him in for a chaste kiss.

“Buck?” he finally manages to gasp out. “What’re you doing here?”

The smile slowly falls from Buck’s face. “Um, I’m here for my shift?”

“I thought we said you’d call out?” Eddie doesn’t _mean_ for that to come out so accusingly, but clearly his mouth didn’t get the memo.

“No, I said I’d call out _if_ I felt bad, but I’m fine,” Buck says, his voice starting to get testy. He’d been adamant from the start about not letting people treat him like an invalid, and up until yesterday Eddie had understood where he was coming from; but this news changes _everything_ , and for the life of him Eddie can’t understand why Buck isn’t spiraling.

He tries again, gentler this time. “You need to be resting-”

“I’m plenty rested now!” Buck exclaims, spreading his arms wide as if to show just how rested he is. “C’mon, I got stuff to do. And you know what I’m like, I hate just sitting around.”

“Why aren’t you taking this more seriously? How are you not as scared as I am?” And apparently that was exactly the wrong thing to say, as Buck reels back like he’d been struck, his lip twisting angrily.

“You don’t get to tell me how I’m supposed to feel about this,” he says lowly.

Dammit, this isn’t where Eddie was trying to go with this! But everything’s become all twisted up inside him, his words are a writhing, knotted mass in his gut, and he doesn’t know how to make them work.

“Does Bobby know, that…” Eddie can’t even bring himself to finish the sentence aloud. _That we’re going to lose our baby?_

“‘That’ what, that- I’m back on the blood thinners?” Buck says in disbelief. “Eddie, I told him everything after the appointment yesterday. You were in the room when I called him.”

Whatever Eddie’s stupid brain had been gearing up to say next, it dies in his throat. That… he doesn’t remember any phone call with Bobby. Now that he thinks about it, _really_ thinks about it, he doesn’t remember most of yesterday evening. After they’d confirmed that Buck wasn’t in any immediate danger and Eddie had driven them home, he’d sort of just… blanked. 

Slowly, his brain starts to put things together, supplying words like ‘disassociation’ and ‘fugue’. Eddie realizes that Buck has been saying something else, only there’s a strange hum that’s started in his ears, it’s drowning everything else around them out, he has to fight to push his way through it- 

And oh _shit_ , not again, Eddie doesn’t have time for this, he’s gotta be stronger, he doesn’t get to be the one that falls apart. It’s been a while since he’s had a panic attack this bad; right after he got back from Afghanistan the first time, he used to lose hours of time. He just didn’t know how to handle life without the rigid structure of the military- and in his panic, he’d abandoned his family. 

Eddie _can’t_ let that happen now, so he needs to just fucking pull himself together, just get over himself and get his shit together.

The look on Buck’s face is absolutely heartbreaking: he’s always been incredibly expressive, every emotion on his face for all to see. Now, he’s looking at Eddie and he’s frightened by whatever he sees. Buck reaches to hold him, but Eddie reels back, because clearly he’s the worst person on the planet, how awful a person does he have to be to deny his husband a hug, his husband who’s pregnant and sick and going to miscarry and maybe even die, because Eddie fails at _everything-_

Athena materializes out of nowhere, interrupting his downward spiral. She gently pulls Buck away from him, says something Eddie can’t make out; whatever it is, Buck clearly doesn’t like it, but Athena isn’t budging. 

“Diaz.” Now _that_ brings him somewhat back to reality. Usually Eddie hates being called by his last name- it reminds him too much of the army- but right now it’s grounding, especially when said in Athena’s even, no-nonsense tone.

Eddie then thinks he hears her say to Buck, “he needs the chance to break down, and he can’t do that if he’s worrying about you.” He can’t tell whether he’s miserable about having his weakness broadcast, or relieved to be able to lick his wounds in private. 

With a steady hand on his shoulder, Athena steers him away from the engine bay and down the hallway, into Bobby’s office.  
Safe behind closed doors, Eddie’s breaths start to come in shallow gasps.

“Buck-” he starts.

“Is just fine. Hen’s gonna keep an eye on him, just in case,” Athena soothes, as she guides them both to the nearby couch. “Now, I just want you to focus on calming down.”

“I-I c-can’t-”

“Yes you can. You know the drill, now; deep, slow breaths.” Athena holds his hands tightly and draws exaggerated breaths of her own for him to copy; together, they work to get his breathing under some semblance of control.

“I, I’m sorry,” Eddie mumbles.

Athena knocks her knee against his companionably. “Nothing to be sorry for, we’ve all been there, yeah?”

Eddie nods faintly. His brain is still moving sluggishly, but finally things are starting to catch up. He’s ashamed of breaking down like he did, worried about Buck- but also confused, because judging by her civvies Athena’s off duty.

“What’re you doing here?”

Athena huffs. “Buck and I carpooled. He had some things he wanted to talk about with- ah, someone with similar experiences.”

“Oh,” Eddie says hesitantly. “So, you know.” Of course she does, Bobby would’ve told her immediately; or maybe she was also on the call that apparently Eddie completely dissociated through.

“Tell me what you think I know,” she orders. When Eddie stares at her in disbelief, she sighs and rolls her eyes in a way that’s somehow still fond. “Go on, humor me.”

“Buck, he… he had these leg cramps, like he did before the clots,” he starts. It seems like an inadequate way to describe the pain Buck had been in, the way he’d clutched at his belly and fought to hold off tears… the terror that grips Eddie’s heart in a vice every time he remembers the embolism, Buck gasping for breath and coughing up blood, Christopher begging him to _do_ something. “I didn’t realize how bad they were, but yesterday- h-he was in so much pain, and I thought… now the doctors’ are saying he could have another embolism, and they’re giving him blood thinners again, a-and now he could hemorrhage during labor, and… I can’t lose them, I can’t, I can’t…”

Just saying that has Eddie dissolving back into tears. This was _exactly_ why he’d been trying so hard to keep it together, because he knew once the floodgates opened there’d be no closing them, and that’s not what his family needs right now.

Athena doesn’t tell him to man up, or get over himself, or any of the things Eddie’s been telling himself; instead, she squeezes his hand, her thumb drawing circles over his knuckles. 

“Eddie, I know it sounds frightening, but this is actually a _good_ thing,” Athena says. “With Buck’s health history, these sorts of precautions are necessary. I’m speaking from experience here, I had some complications with Harry; and that was rough, but it turned out alright, because we were prepared. I know that in our line of work, we’re always trying to take into account the worst possible scenario: you can’t do that here. The stress will drive you crazy.”

“I don’t know how not to!” he exclaims. “Ever since the doctor… I keep thinking about Chris, a-and…”

“And Shannon?” she prompts.

“I couldn’t help her!” Eddie sobs. “I couldn’t help either of them! I couldn’t- I wasn’t _enough!_ ”

“That’s not your fault, you can’t blame yourself-”

Eddie laughs miserably. “Maybe not for that, but…” He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels the need to confess this secret; maybe he’s just been laid so bare, there doesn’t seem to be a point in keeping this hidden too. “There was a moment, right after, that I blamed her for what happened. I-it was just for a second, I swear! But how could I do that, after what she went through?” 

It’s not the only reason he ran off- no, that’s mostly just his own cowardice- but the shame he’d felt every time he looked at Shannon had definitely contributed. He’s prepared to feel Athena withdraw her comforting hand, but that moment never comes. Instead she pulls him in even closer, and makes him meet her gaze. 

“It sounds like you’ve been dealing with this for a long time,” she says thoughtfully. “People often say or think things when they’re scared that’d never occur to them otherwise. And maybe you buried it for a time, but now what you’re going through has stirred this all up.”

Eddie scrambles to correct her. “No, I’m not the one going through this, Buck is.” _Buck_ is the one possibly facing a life-threatening condition, not Eddie. Somehow, thinking too much about how it makes him feel seems selfish.

“He may be experiencing the brunt of it, but this is traumatic for you too. You’re entitled to however you’re feeling right now, even if you think you aren’t.”

“I’ve just been so scared ever since that appointment,” he admits. “But when I look at Buck, he seems fine. He’s being so strong about all of this, and I’m falling apart. How can I put all that on him now, when he needs me to be strong?”

Athena scoffs. “You can, and you _need_ to, ‘cause obviously keeping it to yourself isn’t working. Buck’s more than your husband, he’s your partner; partnerships go both ways. And you’re not alone either, you’ve got all of us. But you need to _talk_ to your damn husband about all of this, the sooner the better.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says, scrubbing at his damp cheeks roughly with his free hand.

“Course I am,” she says with a smirk; the confidence in her voice is enough to make Eddie crack the tiniest of smiles. “Now, take a moment, and I’m gonna send your boy in here so you can talk things out.”

Reluctantly, Eddie lets go of her hand. Athena snags the box of tissues off Bobby’s desk and tosses it his way, barely giving him a moment to wipe his drippy nose before heading for the door. Eddie expects her to call or text Buck to come meet them, but no sooner does she slip out the door than Buck is there to take her place, pulling Eddie into a hug. This time Eddie hugs back instead of pulling away; he melts into the embrace, as much as he can given that they’re sitting next to each other on the couch. 

The familiar scent of Buck’s shampoo calms him; Eddie buries his face in Buck’s shoulder and breathes in deeply, feels the swell of their baby tucked safely in the middle of their embrace.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbles over and over into the crook of Buck’s neck.

“Oh god Eds, no, I’m sorry!” Buck exclaims. “You were hurting, and I didn’t notice-”

“You’ve got enough going on now, I didn’t want to worry you,” Eddie says quickly. It sounds absurd now, given the circumstances.

Buck presses a kiss to the side of his head. “Baby, we’re a team, remember? I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine. I always want you to be honest about how you’re feeling.”

Well if Eddie hadn’t been able to be open with his feelings earlier, he certainly had been just now. “You were outside the door?” he asks miserably, thinking about what a mess he’d been with Athena.

“Of course not, that would’ve been a violation of your privacy!” Buck exclaims; his expression then turns sheepish. “I was waiting down the hall.” 

And isn’t that just so typical of Buck, to be worrying over Eddie even when he’s acting like a freak and pushing him away; _god,_ Eddie loves this beautiful, stubborn husband of his.

“I just… you seemed so together, after yesterday, and I was just… I don’t know how you’re so calm about this,” Eddie admits.

“Hey, look at me,” Buck says, pulling back just enough so he can look Eddie in the eyes. “I’m scared too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“I-I keep thinking,” Eddie chokes out. “About what could happen… you could throw another clot, o-or you could hemorrhage… and now I feel bad for making you think about that!”

Buck groans. “You are so Catholic, y’know that, right? None of this is your fault; and I’m already thinking about it plenty, so you’ve got nothing to feel bad about. I’ve only gotta stay on the heparin until week thirty-nine, max; and if I go into labor before the due date, they’ll have coagulants and a transfusion ready just in case. The doctor gave me a lot of information, and I’ve been doing research on what to do to decrease the risks. I’m even wearing those compression leggings to prevent clots.”

“You hated wearing those last time.”

“Damn straight, they’re itchy!” Buck laughs. “But it’s worth it. We’re going to follow all the rules, and play it safe, and we’re going to be _fine._ ” He grabs Eddie’s hand and presses it against his belly. They wait quietly, until Eddie feels little jabs against his palm. Despite himself, he smiles.

“See?” Buck says softly. “That’s our girl. And in a few months we’re gonna get to hold her, and kiss her little fingers and toes.”

Eddie’s never considered himself to be particularly imaginative, but he can almost see it now: Buck’s flushed, beaming smile, Christopher eager to meet his baby sister. Their little girl, swaddled and safe in her daddy’s arms. It doesn’t erase the terrible visions Eddie’s been haunted by, but it quiets them some.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay. Now what?”

“Now, we take a few more minutes just to catch our breath; then, we go help Bobby with dinner prep,” Buck declares. “And later, once we’re both in the proper headspace for it, we’ll do some research together, and make that birth plan we've been putting off. Deal?”

“Yeah, deal,” Eddie promises, bringing his free hand up to cup Buck’s cheek. He leans in to brush his nose against Buck’s, just to hear his laugh, and kisses him. It’s sweet, and gentle, and it soothes away Eddie’s tension like no other force on earth.

Their problems aren’t solved, but somehow they don’t feel so heavy anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find further information about DVT and blood clots during pregnancy [here](https://www.whattoexpect.com/pregnancy/pregnancy-health/complications/deep-venous-thrombosis.aspx). [Here](https://www.verywellmind.com/dissociation-2797292) is also a brief rundown of dissociation, specifically as it relates to PTSD, which as a veteran Eddie definitely has to some degree.


	3. Bobby and Sophie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've ever had a baby or seen a close friend or relative give birth, you'll know that it's not all sunshine and rainbows; so while I chose to skip over the actual birth, there's a fair amount of talk about all the """fun""" stuff that goes along with delivery and the postpartum experience. This chapter also features the teensiest, tiniest angst in the form of allusions to the mysterious Buckley parents and references to Bobby's past, which are hopefully made up for with plenty of examples of Bobby being A Dad™.
> 
> Specific warnings for: references to a trans man giving birth vaginally; some language used that could be considered AFAB, like 'breast'; nursing; and talk of bodily fluids, i.e. blood and discharge.

Buck is so damn tired. He’s got an unfortunately long history of waking up in hospitals, but nothing compares to the exhaustion he feels now. His whole body feels hollowed out, and strangely empty; it’s an ache that’s settled deep in his bones. Waking up feels like pulling a sunken ship up from the bottom of the ocean, fighting against the crushing pressure of the water all around him.

When he finally does manage to open his eyes, they’re gummy with sleep; he moves to rub them clear only to be stopped when he feels a strange tug at his hand. A pulse oximeter; one, maybe two IVs. They’ve got him lying on his left side rather than on his back- presumably to help with circulation- which is good except it means he’s only got one free hand, and it’s tangled in medical equipment. Buck tries to mess with it, but another hand, warm and calloused, catches his and sets it down on the bed.

It takes a moment for the blurry face above his to solidify, eventually forming a face Buck knows almost as well as his own. 

“Hey Cap,” he slurs, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Hey Buck,” Bobby says softly.

“Time’s’it?”

“Early, almost three. How’re you feeling?”

Buck frowns, trying to get his sluggish brain to catch up. He definitely feels like crap, but there’s something else… _oh-_

“Baby… I had a baby,” Buck mumbles.

Bobby lets out a suspiciously watery chuckle. “Yeah, yeah you did, kiddo.”

“A _big_ baby. _Shit.”_

“Nine pounds, eleven ounces.”

“Wow,” Buck marvels. It’s far from record breaking, but solidly on the larger side. No wonder he’s so frickin’ sore. Judging by the IVs, he’d ended up needing that transfusion after all. “Wheres’she at?”

“In the nursery, you needed the rest,” Bobby explains.

Oh yeah, Buck thinks he remembers now… sorta. He’s still not really awake. “An’ Eddie?” 

“Gone to pick up Christopher from Maddie and Chim’s. I offered to go, but he really wanted to be the one to tell him. So Maddie insisted on driving him; she said she didn’t want him falling asleep at the wheel, but really I think she’s planning on strong-arming him into getting some food and a shower before coming back.”

“That’s my big sis,” Buck laughs, then winces when the movement jars his sore abdomen. Bobby’s half out of his chair, instantly on high alert, until the pain passes and both of them breathe more easily. He tries to get comfortable while Bobby stands around awkwardly, eventually tucking the thin hospital blanket more securely around Buck’s shoulders; it doesn’t do much, but the gesture is nice. Buck is also seriously grateful that he was able to change into his cozy sweats and hoodie rather than another crinkly hospital gown, even if he’s still got to wear those stupid itchy compression leggings.

His heart aches to hold his babies, to see Eddie; but the whole rest of his body aches too, and it’s making it impossible to keep his eyes open much longer.

“’M, so tired,” Buck groans, letting his eyes close.

“Then get some sleep,” Bobby soothes. “You’ve more than earned it.”

“Kay.”

He thinks he feels fingers carding through his hair, but that’s probably just a dream.

The next time he wakes up is easier; less like fighting to get to the surface, and more like washing up on shore. Buck momentarily wonders what’s got him so interested in water imagery- since when is he such a poet? – then realizes just how badly he has to pee.

His attempts to get up alert Bobby, who’d been dozing in his chair next to Buck’s hospital bed.

“I- bathroom?” Buck stammers, blushing furiously. It’s thoroughly embarrassing, having to ask for help this way, but Buck can tell his legs are far too shaky to hold him up on their own; thankfully he’s already been unhooked from the IVs, so they don’t need to fuss with the rolling pole, but there’s no way he can handle even the short distance without help. Maybe it’d be better to call for a nurse, but he really doesn’t think he can wait that long.

Of course, Bobby doesn’t say a word, only nods; there’s zero judgment in his eyes as he helps Buck to standing and lets him lean on him heavily as they cross the small room. They leave the bathroom door cracked, but otherwise Bobby keeps out and lets Buck have some illusion of privacy.

Now that Buck is properly awake, he’s able to really take in just how much his whole body hurts; obviously it’s called ‘labor’ for a reason, but _damn_ he swears even his teeth hurt. Even just sitting on the toilet is sapping him of energy.

He does his business, which includes swapping the massive postpartum pad for a clean one (yuck), and goes to stand- but he can’t, even with the grab bars on either side of the toilet. Try as he might, he can’t seem to get his exhausted muscles to respond to his commands; he tries again to stand, only to feel his head swim dangerously from the effort.

Frustrated tears prick behind his eyelids. Needing help walking is one thing, but he’s literally on the fucking _toilet_. Buck has always hated feeling helpless, and it doesn’t get much more helpless than this. He momentarily weighs his options- asking Bobby for help, or telling him to get a nurse- before resigning himself to the former. As embarrassed as he is about all this, the idea of letting a stranger see him this vulnerable makes him want to crawl out of his skin. At least Bobby’s seen him worse off than this, right?

Buck tugs his sweats up as far as he can, grateful that his oversized hoodie covers most of his lap. “Bobby?” he calls out miserably, “I-I need some help.” Bobby’s quick to poke his head through the doorway; even while he studiously works to not stare, the situation is pretty obvious.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” he asks gently. 

Buck shakes his head furiously, which does nothing to help with the dizziness and only makes him cling tighter to the grab bars. 

“Okay then.” Still keeping his gaze safely above Buck’s shoulders, Bobby hoists him to standing; once he’s actually up and has Bobby’s arm around his shoulders to hold him steady, it’s easier to move around. He’s able to get the weird mesh underwear up on his own- thank _fuck_ \- followed quickly by his boxers and sweats, and after a thorough handwashing they get him back to bed. After all that, the thin hospital mattress suddenly feels like heaven.

“Do you want to try and get some more rest before Eddie and Christopher get here?” Bobby asks. As weary as his body still is, Buck’s far too awake now to go back to sleep; he also wants some quiet time with his baby girl before introducing her to Chris, who he knows is going to be excited.

“Nope,” he says decisively. “I wanna see my baby. Remind myself _why_ I thought this whole thing was a good idea in the first place.” 

Bobby suppresses a chuckle at that and calls for a nurse. Either they’re closer to the nursery than Buck realized or time is still moving kind of funny for him, because it seems like barely a minute passes before a nurse is wheeling in a bassinet and handing him his daughter.

She squirms a little at being moved about, but seems mostly content to just stare up at him with wide brown eyes. Despite knowing that she’s a larger baby, Buck is momentarily overwhelmed by how tiny his daughter looks when tucked in his arms. He’d held her and fed her immediately after she was born, but he’d been far too high on endorphins to properly examine her; now that he’s clearer headed, he’s suddenly become aware of just how fragile she is.

As if there was any doubt that this is his kid, she starts rooting around at his chest, trying to mouth through his sweatshirt.

“Looks like someone’s hungry,” the nurse says. “Are you feeling up to feeding her?”

 _Hell no_ , he thinks desperately, but also _hell yes_ ; she’s not even half a day old and Buck would run through a burning building for her. Except, he already does that on a regular basis, and for total strangers, so maybe that’s not the best metaphor to use here? Whatever. He settles for a shrug and a (very dignified, thank you) ‘guh-yeah’.

“Great! Let’s just get this hoodie off now; you wanna hold her, Grandpa?” the nurse says cheerfully, oblivious to how Buck freezes at her words, looking over at Bobby with wide eyes: he’s told Bobby in the past what he means to him, and Buck knows Bobby feels the same. But it’s a big jump from there to ‘grandpa’. 

Buck’s trying to think up something to say, but the other man beats him to it.

“Yeah, a-alright,” Bobby says, somewhat nervously. Swiftly the baby’s transferred over to Bobby, and the nurse goes about helping Buck out of his hoodie without dislodging the catheter in the back of his hand. The captain doesn’t look nervous anymore; if anything, he seems perfectly at ease cradling Buck’s daughter. While the nurse settles some pillows around to help support him, Buck fiddles with the buttons down his shirt awkwardly, spying on Bobby out of the corner of his eye. 

“So, um, you don’t have to stay,” he says hesitantly. Bobby’s already done a lot for him today, he doesn’t want to make him feel further obligated; especially knowing his painful history.

“Would you like me to leave?” Bobby asks, his expression not giving anything away.

Maybe he _should_ want that, but Buck realizes he doesn’t. As vulnerable as he feels right now, he knows instinctively that being alone would make him feel ten times worse. 

After a moment, Buck mumbles, “… no.”

“Then I’ll stay,” he says decidedly, then turns his attention back to the baby in his arms- and conveniently giving Buck the chance to unbutton his shirt without feeling ogled. 

Once she’s back in Buck’s arms it’s a bit of a struggle to get her to latch- he wasn’t particularly busty even before top surgery, and though he’d grown some over the pregnancy there still isn’t much tissue for her to grab onto- but they get there, or at least close enough to satisfy the nurse into leaving.

“I know I said she was big, earlier, but it’s crazy how small she really is,” Buck muses, smiling at how her little brow wrinkles in concentration.

“That’ll change soon enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up being on the taller side.”

Buck laughs. “Got a potential basketball star here, huh?” She paddles her feet excitedly, as if she can tell they’re talking about her. Her eyesight is still fuzzy, like all newborns’, but she seems to be watching Buck with fascination. He figures it must be weird for her to go from nine months of darkness to a world full of bright lights and colors. It’s definitely weird for him to finally meet this little creature he and Eddie made, this stranger he already loves so dearly.

The only sounds in the room are the baby’s contented grunts and snuffles as she nurses. Bobby reaches out a hand hesitantly; Buck urges him on with a nod, and he strokes the bottom of her foot. She squirms a little, like it tickles, scrunching her tiny toes. 

That’s when something catches Bobby’s eye, making him freeze: the ID tag around her ankle with the same barcode on Buck’s hospital bracelet, her date of birth, and her name.

‘Sophie Brook Diaz’

They’d planned on telling Bobby before she was born, but they had been struggling with how to phrase it; ideally, something more delicate than, ‘hey we want to name our baby after your dead daughter’. Of course, their girl derailed all of that by deciding to come a little early.

Bobby doesn’t seem angry; if anything, he looks rather dazed. “Why?”

Buck worries at his lip, struggling to come up with the proper words. “Bobby… you know things with my parents are… the way they are. Eddie’s family is great, but you- you’re the closest thing she has to a grandfather on my side, so we wanted her to have a little something of you, and… and that was really dumb, wasn’t it, I’m sorry-”

“No, it… it’s fine. It’s _wonderful_. Just caught me off guard, is all,” Bobby reassures, putting a hand on Buck’s shoulder; Buck can’t help but lean into the touch.

“Are you sure?”

“Really. And for the record, I feel the same.”

With one arm keeping Sophie tucked securely against his chest, Buck grabs Bobby’s hand and holds on tight. Bobby returns the grip, and it’s like they put all of their unsaid feelings into that connection. 

Sophie whines, signaling that she’s had enough to eat for now; Buck rocks her and fixes his shirt while Bobby searches for a spit-up towel. Towel safely in place, Buck shifts her up onto his shoulder to be burped. The prenatal classes had had him practice on dolls, but it’s entirely different when he’s holding his wriggling newborn.

“Move your hand a little over to the left, that’s where her stomach is,” Bobby corrects when his first attempts don’t have any effect. “And be a little firmer when you pat.”

“I’m not sure I can be gentle enough with her,” Buck admits, patting the baby’s back tentatively. “Chris was already pretty sturdy when I met him.”

“You’re doing great, son,” he says encouragingly; neither of them says anything, but the moniker fills Buck’s heart with warmth. He applies just the slightest bit more pressure, and suddenly Sophie lets out the most ridiculous little sound; more a squeak than a belch, but it seems to do the trick.

Bobby laughs softly, “There she goes! See, you did fine. And you’ll get more confident with practice, every time you breastfeed-” he cuts himself off abruptly, realizing what he’s said. 

Honestly, Buck is so wrapped up in his little girl that he probably wouldn’t have noticed the slip, if not for Bobby’s reaction. It’s no secret that Buck is a bit of a research junkie; it started off as a way of coping with his PTSD from the tsunami, but morphed into a genuine passion. He’s watched enough nature documentaries to know that everyone has breast tissue, chromosomes be damned; when men get breast cancer, it’s not suddenly called ‘chest cancer’. 

So, this should be the same, right? But… it doesn’t feel that way, not really.

“Buck, I’m so sorry,” Bobby murmurs, his eyes filled with guilt. “I should’ve asked…”

“It’s alright,” Buck reassures; he can’t help but laugh a little at how concerned Bobby still looks. “Really, Cap, it’s fine, shi- um, stuff happens. Just, call it ‘feeding’ or ‘nursing’, okay?”

“Definitely.”

“Oh! But, don’t call it ‘chestfeeding’,” Buck adds, his face scrunching up in distaste. “It reminds me too much of that gross alien chest-burster!”

Bobby mock-gasps, a hand flying to his chest dramatically. “Evan Buckley-Diaz, are you _actually_ making a movie reference?”

“ _Ugh_ , Chim finally made good on his threats and made me and Maddie watch it. _‘For educational purposes’_ ,” Buck says, rolling his eyes.

“Makes sense, _‘Alien’_ is definitely educational,” Bobby nods sagely.

Sophie gurgles, as if to add in her two-cents. Her head is much too heavy for her little neck to hold up, but she manages to sort of loll it over and look at Bobby. Maybe they’re projecting too much, but she already seems to know who he is.

“Hey Sophie, that’s your pops over there,” Buck says, bouncing her gently. “He’s the one who made sure you got whatever weird stuff you had me craving.”

“You weren’t _that_ bad. And I was happy to help.”

“Is that how you explain all the food at our house? Athena says you didn’t stop cooking the entire thirty-six hours Buck was in labor?” Eddie says teasingly from the doorway, Christopher in tow, with Maddie bringing up the rear.

“Dad!” Christopher exclaims gleefully; then, noticing Bobby, tacks on an, “And Pops!”

The sight of his husband and son makes his heart skip a beat, which Buck totally blames on the haze of post-birth hormones. Eddie looks far more put together than he did a few hours ago, if still a little tired- Buck supposes he has Maddie to thank for that, since he’s sure that otherwise Eddie would look much worse for wear. 

“Nice of you all to join us,” Buck shoots back at Eddie; his attempt at playful bickering is hampered by the smile splitting his face in two. Christopher is positively vibrating, in that way little kids sometimes have when they’re trying really hard to contain their excitement. Buck tucks Sophie into the crook of his arm and gestures to Christopher with his free hand. “Hey superman, come meet your sister.”

Chris clearly doesn’t need any further prodding, racing to Buck’s bedside as fast as he can. Eddie follows right behind and scoops their son up, setting him on the bed, before leaning in to share a kiss with Buck. It’s quick, nothing heavy; they already had that moment earlier, right after a squalling Sophie had been placed on Buck’s chest, the two of them laughing breathlessly through their exhausted tears. Eddie looks him over worriedly now, clearly not quite past his earlier anxieties; Buck smiles at him gently, trying to reassure him with his eyes. 

Maddie gives him the same look from where she’s standing next to Bobby. She’s been better at hiding it than Eddie, but Buck knows she’s had her own anxieties throughout this pregnancy; she might have her own kid now, but throughout their childhood Maddie was often more of a parent to Buck than their actual mother. Buck doesn’t think he’ll ever really forgive their mother for putting such a burden on her eldest child, even if it did contribute to the bond he and Maddie have today. He and Eddie have already promised each other that Christopher won’t _ever_ have to be that with Sophie, even if the worst should happen to them.

“How’re you doing, hon?” Maddie asks. 

“Never better,” he says cheekily, as he tucks his free arm around Chris. “Now that I’ve got my favorite boys back.” Christopher beams and wriggles into his dad’s side contentedly. He'd tried to keep up a brave face once the contractions became more intense, but Chris- perceptive little boy that he is- could tell that his dad was hurting and was loathe to leave Buck's side.

“God, she’s beautiful,” Eddie breathes, pure awe on his face as he looks at their daughter. His fingers dance over her head, her cheek, her tummy; like he’s scared to touch her, but can’t hold himself back. “Isn’t she beautiful, Cap?”

“She is,” Bobby agrees. “She’s got your eyes, Eddie.”

“Yup, but that nose is all Buckley,” Maddie chimes in. Christopher is studying Sophie’s little face with all the curiosity of a budding scientist.

“Does she look like me at all?”

“Oh for sure, bud! Look, I think you guys have the same mouth,” Buck says, pointing to Sophie’s pouty lower lip. “She’s too young to smile now, but once she learns I bet you guys’ll have the same smile too.”

“I’ll teach her!” he says eagerly. “I’m really good at smiling, you an’ Dad always say so!”

“Absolutely,” Buck agrees. “For now, though, how about you try holding her?”

Christopher squeals gleefully, already holding his hands out for her; Buck carefully transfers Sophie over to the cradle of his arms. Chris isn’t quite able to hold her all on his own, so Eddie helps him, making sure to support her head.

Whatever concerns they’d had about Christopher adjusting to having a sibling go out the window. He seems absolutely enamored with his baby sister, looking down at her with an incredibly tender expression across his face; Sophie, meanwhile, scrunches her nose up, probably confused about all the new people suddenly in the room.

“She’s so _tiny!_ ” Chris exclaims. “Joy’s way bigger!”

“I know it seems like that now, sweetheart, but she’s just had more time to grow,” Maddie explains. “Your sister will catch up.”

“Was I ever that tiny?”

“Even tinier, mijo,” Eddie says softly; his face takes on that slightly pinched look it always does when he thinks about Christopher’s nightmarish infancy. Buck places a hand on his shoulder soothingly, his touch a reminder that both he and their girl are doing fine.

“Are you okay, Pops?” Christopher says suddenly. Buck looks over at Bobby, and is shocked to realize that there are tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Cap, what is it, what’s wrong?” Eddie asks. Bobby waves them all off. 

“Nothing, nothing! Really, I’m fine,” he says through a wet chuckle.

“But you’re crying!” Chris exclaims, clearly unsatisfied. As if she can sense the room’s sudden change in tone, Sophie starts fussing in her brother’s arms; Buck takes her back and rocks her calm, though the whole time he’s also torn by his concern for Bobby.

“They’re happy tears, buddy,” Bobby reassures Chris, reaching across to smooth a hand over the boy’s curls. Christopher looks him over suspiciously for any sign that he’s lying, but eventually seems satisfied with whatever he sees.

“Like how I cried when Bucky ‘ficially became my dad,” he offers sagely. 

“Yeah baby, like that,” Eddie says, folding Christopher into a hug. Buck watches them both with clear fondness, his two wonderful guys.

Maddie clears her throat, her own eyes having become damp. “ _Well_ , Bobby and I are gonna grab a bite and some coffee and give you guys some time,” she declares, a gentle but firm hand at Bobby’s elbow. 

Buck tries to subtly send a grateful look her way, thanking her for taking care of his boys when he couldn't; the past several hours have been a whirlwind of intense emotions for all the members of their little family, and he’s sure that both of them could use some down time. Sophie’s gonna need her pops at a hundred percent, after all.

Maddie presses a kiss to his temple, making him promise to give her plenty of cuddle time with her niece later. She and Bobby give Eddie celebratory hugs and congratulate Christopher on being a big brother, then turn to go, but Bobby pauses in the doorway. He looks back at Sophie with open adoration in his eyes; that same look stays when he meets Buck’s gaze.

“I’m so proud of you, Buck,” he says softly. Buck blushes, squirming a little at the sudden praise. 

“I didn’t do anything special, people have babies every day.”

“Yeah,” Bobby shrugs. “Still damn proud of you.” 

Then he and Maddie leave the four of them to spend some time together, a quiet bubble of peace before the rest of their crazy, wonderful family comes to meet its newest member.

“Did he really cook the whole time I was in labor?”

“Judging by the fridge full of casseroles, yes. May also sent me a dozen Snapchats as proof.”

“Oh man, I’ve _got_ to see those!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find more information about nursing post-top surgery [here](https://kellymom.com/bf/got-milk/transgender-parents-chestbreastfeeding/) and [here](https://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/a63217/chestfeeding/). Basic info about how to burp a baby and why it's necessary [here](https://www.whattoexpect.com/first-year/baby-care/how-to-burp-your-baby/). And, just to put it out there, I am absolutely _not_ making fun of alternative terms like "chestfeeding", it just seemed like an amusing dialogue for these characters to have; people should always use whatever terms make them feel most comfortable!
> 
> Huge, massive, wonderful thank you's to everyone who bookmarked and left kudos, and especially thank you to those who commented! Originally I'd only planned on making this a one-shot, just to get the idea out of my head, but it was your reactions that enabled it to stretch out for longer. I love and appreciate you all like crazy!
> 
> Fic title from a quote by Gary Smalley: "Affirming words from moms and dads are like light switches. Speak a word of affirmation at the right moment in a child's life and it's like lighting up a whole roomful of possibilities."
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [gingersprites](https://gingersprites.tumblr.com/), come by and say hi!


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